A Bad Day for Otaku
by Sephulbadis
Summary: The 'no NC17 fic' policy makes Otacon sad. It's his day off, dammit, why must things go wrong?


It was a good day for a vacation. No current warning signs of Metal Gears in the making—the lack of such signs was almost enough to make Otacon _more suspicious, rather than less, but Snake had set him down in front of his computer and ordered him not to do anything Gear-related for a while. Sure, Snake wasn't his commanding officer. He didn't have one. Still. It was a good day for a vacation. He'd be outside squinting in the sun if there was any. Instead there was a thick cold fog in the air that showed no signs of burning away._

"Snake?"

"Yeah?" Snake was in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich from the last of Otacon's bread. Unlike Otacon, he would eat the ends that were all crust.

"Come check this out."

Otacon heard Snake give a warning snort. "You're on vacation, damn it. Do you need to be tranquilized to take a break?"

"It's not a Gear, Snake. C'mere and see."

The legendary Solid Snake trudged out of the kitchen with peanut butter on the side of his face and leaned over to get a better look at the screen, chewing a gummy mouthful. "Fanfiction.net? What the hell is this?"

"Well, you know, _fanfiction! People write stories about characters and people they like!"_

"Hmph. You write this stuff?"

Otacon colored faintly. 

"Well, actually. Yes. Kind of. Just one. It's a Rurouni Kenshin story all about how Kenshin's hair is dark brown as a young boy in the OVAs but turns bright red for the series, and why that happened…see, what goes on is how Kenshin manages to evade the isolationist Meiji forces to go train in China, where he finds a place called Jusenkyo and while he's practicing he falls into the Spring of Drowned Hairdresser…anyway, it's kind of humor and I got some good reviews on it, but the Kenshin fandom is full of some very brittle people and I think I ticked a few of them off…"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Otacon."

"…it's not important. Anyway, look at the main site here."

Snake squinted and scanned down the bulleted paragraphs of small text. "No NC-17—huh! That's not a good start—no author fiction, no sports team fiction, no band fiction, no reality show fiction, no lists, no MST3Ks, no blooper reels, no chat room fiction…damn."

"You see what I mean, huh? You think this is Patriots work? You know how they are about censoring the Net."

Snake stood up, took another bite of sandwich, and pondered. It was faintly sinister, he had to admit. On the other hand, this kind of thing was all too common from innocent citizens who had unthinkingly bought into the Patriots' line of reasoning. It was damn hard to avoid—hell, it was _everywhere. Avoiding Patriots indoctrination was not easy._

"It's probably just the admin, Otacon. Not every oppressive bastard has to be directly involved with the Patriots."

"But the site used to be so libertarian—you could post anything, and people could read it without having to change the default ratings filter, and there was this one fic with Pyramid Head beating James with a plank in the Silent Hill fandom that used to crack me up every time I read it, and it's gone now…"

Snake grimaced.

"Okay, okay. I know, I'm on vacation."

"You're on vacation."

"Yes, Snake, I am on vacation. Per request, I will not be looking for signs of Metal Gear development or Patriots influence for the next nineteen hours."

"Good." Snake wandered back into the kitchen. He needed a glass of milk something fierce.

Otacon rubbed at his temples, feeling his heart sink in his chest. It was sad. It was really, really sad. He'd _loved ff.net, in its original state. On the other hand, he supposed, he was used to losing things he loved. This was just another of those things._

The heartfelt sigh from the living room almost made Snake come back out with his glass empty, until he thought better of it. Otacon had it rough sometimes, he knew. He coped better alone. Better to leave the guy in peace. And that meant that Snake would have to sneak around the breakfast bar and find a window to exfiltrate from. 

_Again._

Oh, well.

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Author's Note: Thanks for reading my stories, and for all the wonderful reviews. This is one of the most open-minded and talented fandoms on ff.net, and I'm sorry to see that talent and creativity squashed by the new censorship policies. I'll be relocating to www.fandomination.net, which has no such policies, and I'll count myself and the site fantastically lucky if any of you choose to follow. Best of luck with everything!

Sephulbadis


End file.
